Kitabı oku: «She-bear», sayfa 3

Chapter 2

Winding like a snake among the towering hills, the barely noticeable taiga trail meandered. Two people were confidently walking along it, unwittingly bending under the weight of their bloated backpacks. Hunters already lost count of the number of flat ridges they overcame, the cliffs they bypassed, the mountain rivers they crossed, resisting the rapid current that was knocking them down. But they stubbornly moved to the target. Two days on way. Exhausting days and short night breaks. Sleep was more similar to wakefulness, and with the dawn, they were on the road again. The sweat, flooding the eyes. Stinging bites of mosquitoes and midges. They were already a little interested in how many kilometres were left behind. They were more concerned with when this crazy transition would be completed. But the end justified the means. People were almost exhausted but with an animal’s tenacity moved to the bear thawed patch in anticipation of the desired prey. Bear bile was highly valued on the black market, and they could make good money. They could also sell pads and skin. All this promised a significant amount of money, which they would not earn for a year in the timber industry enterprise. The meat would remain for the winter, so they would no longer need to buy pork, prices on which rose significantly this year. It would be a really good catch. The bear was a dangerous beast, but it was not the first time they were hunting for it, at least for one of the hunters. And that encourage optimism that they would not come back without the prey. Besides, they both were experienced riflemen, well armed. The worn-out lacquered butts of double-barrelled guns crushed against the khakis, and leather cells of cartridges were packed with explosive bullets, which would be enough to shoot all the bears in the area. The last steep ascent, and the hunters finally came to the desired area. From the top of the hill, taiga spread before the eyes; at feet, as far as one could see, there was the magnificent cedar forest, and only at the bank of the mountain river winding like a silver thread, willows and birches timidly clung.

– Here we come! – the elderly hunter satisfactorily chuckled, gently going down the flat slope, and assured: – When we cross the river we will be at the right place! – On the next turn, leaning his backpack against the tree, he wiped big drops of sweat sliding down his stubborn forehead with his wide calloused palm, and, smoothing back his soft grey hair, thoughtfully concluded: – There are two more kilometres left! We will go to the river and at the ‘dead wood’ out there, on the Grishenskaya clearing, we will set up a camp!

– You just made me happy! – The black-haired man, twenty years younger than his companion, wearily exhaled. He tried not to lag behind his older comrade, whom this familiar terrain sort of gave more strength, and disappointedly complained: – This walk to the ‘cordon’ has finally exhausted me! I have no strength to carry this damn backpack! I have the feeling that my wife put some bricks in it on some purpose for me to die on the way! – And he threatened dully: – I will come back and will make her run around the house with this backpack! She will see the circus! She put so many useless things there like I was going to taiga not for three days but for the winter! She can only dream about this! – The hunter’s anger had no limit. – Give a fool rope enough, and she will hang herself! Damn! – The man looked like he was thirty-five years old; one could call him handsome, tightly built, scrubby and broad-shouldered, vaguely resembling the English bulldog, with the same crooked feet and with a protruding lower jaw. But his black eyes, looking frowningly, were the most scaring, as insane lights were blazing in them with bright flashes. Not everyone in the village could withstand this look of a pissed-off beast burning with hatred without that treacherous feeling of chills of fear. For his uncontrollable violent nature, Michael was known among the villagers as a fierce brawler. Hot-tempered, getting angry in a flick of a finger, he constantly got into fights, most of which he had started. People were afraid of him and tried to avoid in order not to get in the heat of the moment. He was not just a cruel man but a real sadist, who knew no pity and compassion. Often getting drunk to unconsciousness, he was brutally beating his wife, throwing into action his heavy fists. And when she lost consciousness, he was beating her, already lying on the floor, with his feet, after which she rested in bed for weeks, barely recovering from the beating. He always had the reasons for the use of brute force, so the woman had bruises and abrasions on her swollen face for months, demonstrating to others the hard temper of her husband. Although he often got drunk and constantly kicked up a row, no one could object to the fact that Mikhail was a skilful and desperate hunter. He alone was hunting for the wild boar, and sometimes he even brought the elk. And once he strangled with his bare hands a full-grown wolf that attacked him, the skin of which now covered the floor of the kitchen, serving as direct evidence of his strength. In his lifetime, he killed many animals, but this was the first time he was hunting for bear. And he hoped not to lose his face in front of the senior fellow, relying on his accuracy and significant experience in hunting for other big animals.

– My goodness! We reached our destination! – Sergey Petrovich contentedly exhaled, promptly throwing the backpack to the ground and wearily sitting down next: – Now it is a matter of technique – to find the bear and to take aim at it! And the rest comes down to luck: either we will kill it or it will kill us! There is no other way! – The man laughed out loud, showing his teeth yellowed from nicotine, looking around the clearing with tenacious hunter’s eyes and trying to find even the slightest indication of the presence of the master of taiga.

– Finally! – Mikhail sighed with relief, sitting down beside his friend, and quickly took off kersey boots, providing rest for his legs tired of walking. – What a bliss! – The man tenderly moaned, stretching out his bare feet and considering the reddened fingers. Though he was not a physically weak man, but even he had been exhausted by the forty-kilometre marathon. – Couldn’t you find a closer spot for hunting for bear?!

– At closer places, all the animals have been shot! – Sergey Petrovich said in a mocking tone, rolling the home-grown tobacco and wetting the cigarette paper with saliva. – There are more people in the woods than mushrooms! They killed all the animals!

– That’s true! – Mikhail confirmed, alternately massaging the soles of the feet, and said dreamily: – I would like to take a nap for an hour or two! It would be good to relax a little and to begin hunting with fresh vigour!

– We will catch up on sleep in the afterlife! – Sergey Petrovich said mockingly. – We are running out of time! Firstly, we need to set up a camp until dark! And secondly, we need to have a bite! Nobody knows when we will have time to eat! – and, untying the backpack, he peevishly began to complain: – Real men should eat well! One cannot be fed with sleep only! We need meat! Lots of meat! All man’s strength is in meat! And we need a lot of strength today! Really! Bears eat wimps for lunch! The moment you gape, relax, and it will get you! It will grab you in the pads, and you will be dead!

– Stop lamenting! We are not of the chaff too! We will be able to stand up for ourselves! – Mikhail snapped, lovingly stroking the lacquered butt of the double-barrelled gun. – And this gun will kill not only a bear but an elephant! A bear for my ‘old lady’ is like a mouse for a cat! It will be gone in a flick of a finger!

– Everything happens for the first time! Watch out! – Sergey Petrovich gently mocked, glancing slyly at the new gun of his friend. – Even the most expensive guns, especially the new ones, can misfire! One should not have faith in them! Certainly, your gun is impressive! Beautiful! But you have not shot it yet! You should have taken the old Berdan rifle. It is like Robin Hood – hits the bull’s eye! – Mikhail just shrugged, not even trying to argue. But the old man instructively continued: – You always need to be ready for anything! And especially for troubles! They are just waiting to stab you in the back! Old guns, like ‘old ladies’, are tested over the years, and the new ones are not! There is no guarantee! It is like a young married woman: it has everything but there is no reliability! And a bear is not a harmless mouse! It will attack you from the back in the twinkling of an eye! And to smash a man – a piece of cake, as it weighs a hundred kilograms! No man can withstand this! Such beast is walking through the woods, and when some branch crackles it hides in the bushes and waits for people to pass by! And then it pops up, and the person is gone forever! To hunt for bear is not the same as to chase women! You must always be on the alert! Even experienced hunters got into troubles, becoming victims of their own overconfidence, forgetting that occasion commands fate! Only fools are treating all the animals in the same way! And animals, like people, have their own habits and tempers! Sometimes, the hare attacks the hunter! – Sergey Petrovich thoughtfully ruffled his grey hair with his hand and said in a dull voice: – I will tell you one story, narrated by my old friend from Irkutsk, with whom we had spent more than one night in blinds on the salt-marshes hunting for moose! – The old man absently nodded, as if he immersed in the past. – You know! You come to ‘scatter’ before dark for the beast not to smell your tracks and, while waiting for the dusk, there is time to have a heart to heart talk! So, that’s what he told me! It happened in Slyudyanka ten years ago! – he began to look intently at his fellow, who was incredulously grinning, and said passionately: – There is nothing funny here! Trust me, it is not a fictional story! My father, rest his soul, – the old man superstitiously made the sign of the cross, – told that in the old days it was a matter of honour for the hunter to go after a bear with a spear! A spear and a knife, and nothing more! Eye to eye, one on one! That’s prowess! But sometimes there were even more desperate brave men, who engaged themselves in mortal combat with a bear, wielding a knife and a hat!

– It is a pity that they did not do this with a hammer and a foot wrap! – Mikhail hoarsely laughed, not doubting that the whole ‘true’ story was a hunting fable. – You wave a handkerchief and a bear rushes from the bushes, like a bull to a red rag! You slash it on the neck and its head rolls off, like a ball! It is not hunt but a real harvest! You go into the woods to mow some meat for the winter, and then sell the skins! What a bliss! No expenses! Only profit! – laughing, he continued to twist nimbly between his fingers the galvanised cartridge loaded with a lead bullet, notched slightly on top in the form of a cross. The destructive power of an explosive bullet was incredible. Entering the body as a small neat point, it could go unpredictably anywhere, taking out all the insides.

– Do not sneer, doubting Thomas! Young people always laugh! But in vain! Better make a mental note and remembered! Hunting is a serious thing! Like in school, one needs to learn! And you, simpletons, have nobody else to teach you a lesson, except for us, old people! We all are heroes by word of mouth, and once it comes to actions, we hide in the bushes! Showing off egos! One empty bravado! One does not need to be very smart to kill a bear with a rifle. One only needs cartridges and an accurate eye for this! Hand-to-hand combat is another thing! – he waved his hand dully. – Not everyone has enough spirit to cope with a bear, especially only with a knife! – The old man positively nodded, agreeing with his words. – The skin of the beast is solid and tanned, bones are strong, and it skilfully wields its pads! Hunter’s one and only chance to deal a fatal blow is to hit the heart through the ribs! It takes a special skill, honed for years! Not every hunter is good! A person must possess many qualities: bravery and self-control, as well as agility and presence of mind! Certainly, one needs to have strength! But then, one gets so much pleasure when a full-grown beast lies dead at one’s feet, defeated in a fair fight! But not everyone will make up one’s mind to do this! The coward chooses the easy way, using means that are safe for life! Traps, rifles with telescopic sights, iron hinges! He kills the beast, sometimes, not even seeing it, and then boasts of his dangerous adventures! And there is nothing to boast of, as he stayed in the bushes! A real hunter encounters danger face to face, chest to chest, eye to eye! – he sighed heavily. – But it is impossible to foresee everything! Man proposes, but God disposes! Luck is a capricious girl! – the man helplessly lifted his hands in dismay. – Sometimes, life brings us unexpected surprises! Anything might happen! And then all your hard work goes down the drain! It seems that you have done everything right, calculated every step and movement correctly! But no, there is some problem, some absurd mistake that costs you your life! It can be an unforeseen circumstance, a tragic intervention of fate that ruins all the plans! It turns out, – Sergey Petrovich significantly clicked his tongue, – there are phenomena among animals that react differently to the developed approach, in a non-standard way of behaviour! It happened with that bear-hunter! For many years, he successfully used the simplest way of the hunt: he tore off his cap, raised his hand defiantly, forcing the animal instinctively rise up on its hind pads, and abruptly threw a cap into the bear’s head! The bear involuntarily blinked, getting hit in the eyes, and the hunter, meanwhile, nimbly jumped close to it and plunged the knife in the heart with a strong blow! One blow was enough for the animal to fall dead on the ground!

– Wow! – Mikhail admiringly exclaimed, having opened his mouth in surprise. – That’s a great skill!

– He was a good man, – the old man said slowly, looking with bleary eyes as if through the time, – he killed the beast professionally, instantly, not giving time to be tormented in vain! – suddenly, angry notes began to sound in his voice. – If you cut open the bear’s belly, from the pain, it begins to reel the guts on the pad, dying in terrible agony! This is not the hunt, but the real wild fanaticism! Death should be quick and easy! – Sergey Petrovich looked at his fellow inquiringly, who nodded as the sign of agreement. – He understood that one didn’t need to be very smart to cut open the bear: one hits and retreats to a safe distance! And one only waits for the beast to tear itself apart! And there is no risk! – He dully waved his hand. – And there is no joy of victory! Low and mean! I already cannot handle a bear without a gun as I have no former strength! Even being young, I was afraid to hunt for bear with a knife! God has not given me courage! The bear-hunter honoured only fair fight and did not tolerate meanness and injustice! He left the beast a chance, which that beast inevitably used one day! He was the winner of the thirty fights with full-grown males, but the thirty-first one was fatal for him! And it happened not because of his oversight or regrettable mistake! He did everything, as usual, according to the old scheme, but it seemed that his luck left him that day! – and, having thought a little, confusedly added: – Or it was some God of bears that heard about the brave hunter and wanted to challenge him! – Sergey Petrovich, like other old men, was superstitious, convinced that even a stone had its forest soul incomprehensible to us. – One could not understand what higher powers interfered but the result was disastrous! The hunter, as usual, raised his hand, making the bear stand up on its hind pads, instinctively threw his cap and rapidly jumped to the roaring beast, ready to strike a fatal blow! And the beast suddenly hugged the man! I guess I do not need to explain to you what it means to be in an iron bear hug! It is like to get hit by a hydraulic press! A split second, and your chest becomes compressed in the bag! And before you know it, you will go on a date with your ancestors! The thing was that the beast did not deign to blink and saw the approaching hunter! The rest was the matter of technique! That’s it! The moral of the story is the following: regardless of your previous experience, sometimes, the situation goes out of your control!

– Yeah! Interesting story! – Mikhail agreed sadly, feeling heavy-hearted. – I also know one hilarious story, told by my friend hunter, when I was buying the license to shoot an elk! So, it was like this! One would-be hunter, – he excitedly leaned forward, gesticulating frantically, – decided to hunt for elk alone! He bought a license and rushed to the exploits! One day – no news! Two days – the same thing! Silence! On the third day, his wife became worried and went to the forestry! They organised a search party and rushed to find him…

– Did they find him? – Sergey Petrovich asked excitedly, ceasing to disassemble the backpack for a moment.

– Sure! It is for urban residents, taiga is Chinese alphabet, and for people like us, it is an open book! But if you know where to look, it is a trifling matter! – The man enthusiastically waved his hands. – And now imagine such a picture! A big birch of three girths and two dead bodies in it: our would-be hunter and an elk pinning him to the tree trunk with its horns! That is where the irony of fate: the hunter and the prey, frozen in the fatal embrace, and now one cannot tell, who is the hunter and who is the victim! There are no winners and no losers! The death made them equal! – he perplexedly lifted his hands in dismay. – I guess the hunter only wounded the beast, and the beast did not flinch and went on the man, hit him with horns, but did not rate its strength and nailed him to the tree! Maybe, he did that on purpose, instinctively feeling the approach of death, decided to take the man too! Nobody knows what happened there, as dead did not tell anything! There are many options, but the end is one! I know only one thing: five hunters barely managed to pull the horns out of the crevice! Now imagine the strength of the elk that hit the man!

– Yeah, what a story! – Sergey Petrovich said dejectedly, lighting a cigarette, and took a deep puff, imagining the tragic scene. – That’s because fate played a cruel trick! They probably did not die immediately and, bleeding out, looked into each other’s eyes with hatred!

– Gleefully waiting to see who will die first! – smiling like a predator, Mikhail agreed. – Maybe, the elk was happy that the enemy died faster, but I think it lasted not too long! Actually, none of them won! Both kicked the bucket!

– Yes, it is wrong! – The old man uttered accusingly in a sad voice. – Two deaths, two crossed out fates!

– Damn them! – Mikhail angrily made the air blue and waved his hand. – I have other things to worry about, I do not want to be concerned at all about them! Who are they to me, relatives or something?! Brothers? Matchmakers? Who?! Nobody! And if they are nobody to me, then there is no need to charge memory with trifles! Yes, there is nothing we can do for them! They cannot be brought back to life! And now they are far away from here, probably, blissfully happy! – He dabbed at the sky with his index finger. – Indulge in every pleasure! And much more important things to do are waiting for us than being upset about someone’s worthless life!

Mikhail had no the slightest idea of mercy, compassion, sympathy. He did not care about a stranger’s fate, he cared more about his own welfare, considering that everyone bore one’s cross. And if someone was destined to die, then so be it, but he had nothing to do with this. The man yanked up and waddled to the nearby mountain stream, through the crystal surface of which one could see the sandy bottom and stones covered with green ooze. Frisky flock of silver bills fearfully recoiled from the human shadow, appearing on the surface, and quickly rushed into the thick branches, bending to the water aspen. The man crouched and, raking the cool spring water with the palm, drank from the spring in plenty. Having quenched his thirst, he rose and, stretching out with a crunch, hesitantly concluded:

– Bad luck follows us, we did not find any bear trace, even the slightest sign of its existence, along the whole way! As if the beast is not here, and have never been here!

– Do not worry, we will find it, and more than one! I noticed this place long ago, during the winter, when I went to set sable traps! I walked around the crevice (it is not far from here) and saw the steam coming from a small vent in the snow! Certainly, it was the bear’s lair in the roots of the fallen cedar. I wanted to kill it at once, but I was afraid that she-bear was with the bear-cub! – The old men perplexedly shrugged. – It would be OK to kill she-bear, but it was a sin to kill the bear-cub too! It was too young to die! I would not take it with me, and to leave it there meant certain death! And in the past, I gave myself a vow not to kill she-bears with bear-cubs! It is obscene to kill the child, let the cub of the animal, in the womb or when it still suckles! It is a great sin! Children are children, they walk on their two or four! For this, God will not pat on the head, but will punish, so you will regret the day you were born! And at my age, God forbid, I have no desire to sin! The nightmares do not give me rest because of the past deeds!

Mikhail sarcastically grinned. But the old hunter, having noticed a sarcastic smile, accusingly shaking his head, strongly objected:

– I know what you have thought. There is no difference, if good riddance! They would grow and suddenly attack you, and you had mercy on them! And you would not have any chance! Being young, I thought the same: kill and have no remorse! But understanding comes with age. You begin to see the world with different eyes! You become more perceptive, trying not to make unforgivable mistakes that will tear you apart in the future! – He sighed, once again withdrawing into himself. – The past can be very vindictive! If it does not hit physically, it will hurt emotionally! Only anguish and bitterness know how much time it takes to heal spiritual wounds! And these wounds still torment me! The past takes it out on me for my carefree youth! I cannot hide from it, even at night, in my dreams! It will find me everywhere and exhaust. – Sergey Petrovich nervously rubbed his sweaty palms. – Every night of the past year, I have the same dream about the doe mortally wounded by me! – He sighed bitterly. – It was the first time I shot from the gun in the hunting field, and it was such a success! I ran up to my first trophy, thinking that my father would be proud of me! She looked at me, and there were real tears in her eyes! Under her body, there was the crashed new-born fawn, flopping in the death struggle! She just laid there and looked in my eyes, and I saw the unbearable sadness in them, not her pain, but the pain of the baby! She tried to stand up, but her legs did not obey and fell down once again! I heard the crunch of bones! The ribs of the fawn broke! In my mind, everything turned out! You will not believe it but I cried with her! I became like a stone! I felt approving pats of my father on the shoulder but I did not hear his words of praise, I only saw her and the dead fawn! My first hunter’s trophy brought me nothing but tormenting acute emotional pain for all the remaining years! I dream to go back in the past and to refrain from the fatal shot! Maybe, guilt would let me go! I am tired of waking up in a cold sweat, tormented by her gaze and spotted side of the fawn in the death struggle! – The old man’s eye glistened and he sadly said: – So, the hunt is not always a joy. Sometimes it brings only the pain! – And he continued in a more calm voice: – So, I decided not to rush things – I waited for the spring to avoid committing follies! – And keeping off the sad memories, he resolutely shook his head. – The past cannot be changed, and one needs to eat something! There is nothing in the shops, so I have to hunt to send gifts for children and grandchildren to the city! We can eat potatoes, as we have our own vegetable garden! They are young, and to grow they need meat! So, if it is a male, as I hope, he will have nowhere to hide!

Sergey Petrovich Silantyev was known as an experienced hunter, with a record of more than one killed the bear, unlike the young fellow, for whom it was the first hunt for bear. Sergey Petrovich took a partner to be safe. The vision was not good anymore, a betraying tremor appeared in his hands, and former strength was gone over the years. Needless to say, he hit his 60s, though, in the presence of others, he still tried to be cheerful and look good. But years… But years were constantly taking their toll. Time did not stand still, and he was getting old irretrievable. He hunched more and more, bending lower and lower to the ground. And now, once thick as pitch hair thinned and was more reminiscent of the dropped powder, and more wrinkles appeared on a sunken face. But there was something positive in his age: seasoned experience, which he reasonably used, came instead of youthful incontinence. Now, he did not allow himself embarrassing gaffes and hasty decisions. The man only worried for the young hunter not to make a mess in the heat of passion, which could lead to their own death. As in any business, one had to surrender to chance and then all the effort would go down the drain. There could be unfortunate misfires, or the beast would approach from the back, and even worse one could meet the brood of the she-bear with two two-year-old bear-cubs, not yet adults but no longer children, and with the height of their mother. There were many options, but the end was one! So, he tried not to think of the future. Everything must take its course. He should not rush things. It’s all in God’s hands. And paternal moralising continued:

– If you know the habits of the animal, success is almost guaranteed! It is known that bears leave their territory only in exceptional cases: a bad year, a wounded animal, in the winter – insomniac bear, or a forest fire! And since taiga was not and is not on fire, and last year, we had a lot of berries and pine nuts – the bear had a lot of fat and slept peacefully all winter! The spring was early and fruitful in wild garlic, so the beast did not have to starve after waking up, and hence there was no need for it to go somewhere and to leave its home! So, now the bear wanders somewhere nearby, and we will meet it!

Wild garlic grew everywhere and resembled the green carpet with a height reaching up to the knees of the person. Mikhail reached out and ripped off the thick stem. He gently cleansed it from the bitter peel, cut leaves and took a bite with a crunch, chewing delicious juicy, salty flesh, resembling the tastes of garlic leaves.

– And there is plenty of omul in the rivers. – He added approvingly, sitting down comfortably on the grass. – During the spawning, I caught them in abundance! I salted a barrel for the winter, sold the rest on the city market and made good money! If it will continue this way, then I will be able to buy a new washing machine in winter, as the old one is at its last gasp! Let’s have a bite? – He suggested suddenly, stroking his rumbling stomach. – I have not had a morsel to eat today!

– It is time! – Sergey Petrovich agreed, promptly pulling out a heavy package with victuals wrapped in foil. – Now, let’s see what we have left!

– The last piece of meat is especially sweet! – Mikhail smiled, pulling out of a side pocket of a backpack a fork and an iron mug.

– Good point! – Sergey Petrovich confirmed, conjuring over lunch. He spread a newspaper and laid out on a makeshift table: bread, two chicken hams, pickles, four eggs, and potatoes in jackets. Looking at the products, he confidently concluded: – Mare yourself at home! Not a lot, but it is enough to lay the stomach for a while! And in the evening, if we are lucky, we will have fresh meat and will eat to heart content! He carefully pulled out of his pocket the camp saltshaker, gently poured a handful of salt on the edge of the newspaper and, without turning, asked his friend:

– I will serve the table here, and you go down to gather some dead wood for the fire! We will drink some tea from the leaves of currant! Look, there are many bushes of currant growing near the stream, and the tea from its young leaves will be fragrant!

– OK! – Mikhail uttered without much enthusiasm, reluctantly putting on his kersey boots again. He rose on legs, aching from hours of walking, with a stifled groan, and wearily headed to the fallen pine. He gathered dry branches with sharp blows of the heels and, having taken them in his arms, brought to the camp. He stacked firewood like a pyramid, took from his jacket breast pocket a box of matches wrapped in cellophane and, using only one match, lit the fire. Watching the growing power of flame with acute fascination, he carefully wrapped the box and put in the inside pocket. A match in the forest was something special. It was cherished as the apple of one’s eye. This was the protection, warmth, and hot food. And God forbid, if they were weeping or lost due to negligence, then big troubles would be waiting for the hunter: bad weather or night attack of big predators. And in the taiga, there were many those, who would like to eat human flesh, including bears, wolves, and lynx.

Mikhail cut off two spears with a knife, sharpened them at the base, stuck in the ground, parallel to each other, and put a straight stick on top. He went to the stream, filled a pot with spring water, plucked the leaves of currants, and carefully hung the pot over the fire. Rainbow drops, nimbly slipping through the surface blackened from the soot, were instantly licked off by the searing flames, and in places, where water and fire were contacted, the eternal symphony of indomitable opponents, crack and an annoying hiss, was born.